


somno-feel-ya-up

by SunlitGarden



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Consensual Somnophilia, Erections, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Humor, I can't spoil everything, Inappropriate Erections, Oral Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Sleepy/Unconscious Sex, Smut, Somnophilia, Trying not to wake Archie who's in a loft above them, and SLEEPING together winkwink, erection-wrangling, ish, sexy and silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden
Summary: Sleep has never seemed so sweet to Betty as when she watches Jughead pass out next to her on the pullout couch. It's never been so alluring, either, with his massive erection pulling her attention from the TV. As the night progresses, their attraction to one another goes beyond some pleasurable dreams and becomes a sexy, messy, real-life fantasy.TLDR: Betty handles Jughead's impressive erection. Also, there's sleep.





	somno-feel-ya-up

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @theheavycrown for beta-ing this bizarre and brilliant boner scenario and making me laugh with her notes. Also thanks to @jandjsalmon for raising my antennae about this particular kink in fic and to @bugggghead for the cute and sexy graphic. In case y'all aren't aware, somnophilia is basically a paraphilia about pleasuring someone while they're asleep. How can this be consensual, you ask? Reaaaaad (and, you now, ask your partner beforehand). Hope you enjoy!

Betty admires Jughead’s sleeping form - his sloped nose, his beauty-marked cheek, the dark, soft hair curled around his face and free of his oft-present beanie. His cheeks sag against the pillow and his lips fall open with soft breathing. He looks so cherubic and relaxed and approachable in his sleep. It’s just easier to notice how sweet he is when nobody else is looking. She’s not _creeping _on her best friend. In fact, she’s trying rather hard not to glance at the massive, slightly obscene tent in his pajama pants.

Not that he should be ashamed of that, or anything.

It’s a little awkward to be sitting next to him on a pull-out couch while he’s presumably engaged in some kind of nocturnal fantasy about...whatever it is Jughead fantasizes about. Whipped cream?

_A Vixens uniform?_

Betty smothers that unbidden thought and tries to focus on the screen in front of them.

_Let him sleep_. Whatever sexy dream he’s engaged in deserves his full attention. She certainly wouldn’t want to be disrupted in the middle of such a pleasing experience. Her nocturnal romps usually involve variations of a faceless, provocative guy grinding up against her while he tells her she’s beautiful and sexy, ‘_so good_.’

There are _variations _on that fantasy. After watching _Rear Window _for the billionth time at the Twilight with Juggie, she dreamed they kind of had a thing like the main characters. Since Jimmy Stewart’s character was wheelchair-bound, he asked his girlfriend, played by Grace Kelley, to show Betty how to have a good time as a reward for being such a brilliant investigative journalist.

It made _dream_ _sense_ that she’d climb into Jughead’s lap the same way Grace Kelley climbed into James Stewart’s.

Afterall, she wants to be_ like_ Grace Kelley and Jughead has Jimmy Stewart’s dark hair and inquisitive mind and...was the projectionist. He was _there _that night. He’s always watching people in Pop’s, he writes, he has a _camera_. No wonder he popped into her mind for a nighttime romp.

The erection bobs out of the corner of her eye, _looking _at her.

Jughead moans a little, shifting in his sleep. His arms are up over his head in a makeshift neck brace. With his lean, long body stretched out, his bulge appears even more prominent - and not in the stupid way Reggie tries to peacock as well-endowed by circling his junk through his gym shorts.

_“Someone should tell him it’s not about the size of the boat, it’s about the motion of the ocean,” _Veronica complains on the regular, so much so that Betty wonders if she’ll ever ask him to demonstrate if he does in fact know what to do with it. Kevin isn’t as discriminatory. Despite the slim pickings of openly homosexual men in Riverdale, he's been with at least seven guys. Meanwhile, Betty has yet to fancy _one _enough to do any boat-handling.

She glances up to the loft bed, eyeing Archie’s bare foot hanging over the edge and mulling over something Jughead had said earlier that night.

_“Watch this,” Jughead teased, blowing their best friend’s arches._

_Archie jerked back so fast his leg thudded against the wall. As he emerged over the railing, he looked suitably affronted at the tickling. Jughead’s shit-eating smile made it all the more charming to witness. “Don’t be doing stuff in my sleep, man.”_

_“I’m incredibly mature, Archibald. I can assure you a total lack of fingers in warm water glasses so as not to embarrass you in front of Betty.”_

_“Yeah, well, the rule still stands. No touching me in my sleep.”_

_“Do you guys touch each other when you’re awake?” Betty sipped her water bottle as nonchalantly as she could._

_“Only as much as two heterosexual men can get away with, Betty. Two-tap hugs and we’re out. You, however, can touch me as much as you want when I’m asleep - just no drawing dicks or mustaches on various parts of my body. I don’t want to be labeled by my masculinity.”_

_“Breasts only. Got it.”_

_He flashed her a grin that made her feel like a million bucks. Maybe she was just as quippy and brilliant as he was. “You sure you don’t mind sharing the couch for a few more minutes while we watch TV?”_

_“Of course not. I might do some reading, but put whatever you want on.”_

_They talked more than watched, her book open and unread in her lap. Eventually, Jughead’s head started to lag to one side, the exertion from the day’s lake activities finally catching up with him. She didn’t have the heart to gently usher him to the loft bed over the television, the one he requested, oddly enough, despite it being the only one without a view of the small television set. The only thing that bed looked over were the other two beds. Maybe Jughead valued his friendships more than television - and that was saying something._

Although leaving the television on for white noise to fall asleep to seemed like a great idea, now that Jughead’s softly breathing next to her, she feels like she can barely focus on _anything_. The program is just flashing lights and noise, the book in her hands a few coherent words tangled together. After the third time trying to reread a page, she huffs and glances over at the stretch of Jughead’s pants. It’s _distracting_.

Grabbing the throw blanket, Betty loosely tucks Jughead in. Maybe it’ll hide the prominent beacon of pleasure _and _keep him cozy. Not that he’ll need help staying warm - she knows from touching him in the past that he tends to run hot. Hopefully the blanket won’t be _too _warm. Biting her lip, she re-tucks him, purposely skimming his arm with her pinkie just to confirm he is, in fact, still a human furnace. Twisting her mouth in thought, she tugs the blanket down to his waist so he can breathe a bit easier. For some reason, the solid color of the blanket only makes the tenting _more _obvious. She folds over the edge of the blanket to make it thicker.

Still prominent. _Good for Jughead._

Biting back a decidedly ridiculous giggle, Betty sits back on her knees, completely forgetting that Archie’s foot is hanging low enough to clock her on the back of the head.

“Ow!” As soon as the exclamation is out, Archie stirs. Jughead, thankfully, just twitches and scoots closer to where she’d been laying on the bed.

“What are you...Jughead?” Archie grumbles. “Are you being a dick?”

Betty looks down at the erection in panic. If Archie sees, it’ll be _totally _embarrassing - for her _and _for Jughead. Thinking fast, she grabs one of the couch pillows and places it on Jughead’s crotch. It stays propped up like his dick is a kickstand. The whole image is so ridiculous and she’s so _tired_ that it strikes her as _hilarious_. Laughter hisses up her throat despite her attempt to smother it.

“Huh?” Archie starts to prop himself up. He can’t see _this_, so Betty does the next thing that comes to mind and lowers Jughead’s waistband to secure his raging sleep-boner.

It involves a bit of wrangling through his pants. Something soft and silky brushes her hand with such an intimate familiarity that she has the distinct urge to pet it.

A pink, smooth fleshy dome pokes out at her from the top of his boxer shorts. Her tongue stops whistling on laughter and everything except a tightening down south fades away in a moment of perfect clarity.

_It’s cute_.

Jughead’s dick is _cute_. It’s not like those veiny 10-inch monstrosities on website ads that look as if they might be a weapon - not _magical _like the dicks she reads about in romance novels that make ladies melt at the sight of them. Her breath hitches in her chest as she’s overcome with the urge to see the rest of it.

As Archie leans over, she slides the throw pillow down over Jughead’s waistband. His stomach tightens under her.

Squinting so much that his eyes are barely open, Archie searches for an answer in the relative darkness. “Betty? What are you doing?”

“Just rearranging some pillows. Sorry.” She flashes him her ‘_don’t mind me, I’m an angel’ _smile, which has always worked, even when he’s not sleep-deprived.

“S’okay. Just...woke me up.”

“I’m sorry, Arch. Go back to sleep.”

“S’fine. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

Betty holds her breath as Archie clambers down and stumbles through the doorway. As soon as she exhales, she nearly jumps back, because of course that’s the minute she realizes Jughead is staring at her.

“Did you...touch my dick?” He’s staring incredulously at her erection fort. “Did I…am I hallucinating?”

“No.” She rearranges on the bed so her heel isn’t pressing into her sweet pressure spots. “To the second one,” she admits, because she wouldn’t want him to lie to her if the situation had been reversed. He keeps staring, his expression confused, but not _mad _or even _embarrassed_, really. More like..._dumbstruck_?

“You were having a really nice dream and I didn’t want to interrupt.” Again, he stares at her. “Archie was going to see things, so I tried to...minimize it.”

“Touching it definitely wasn’t the way to go.”

Shame bursts in her chest like a warm water balloon making impact. “I’m sorry, I–”

“No, no, I meant–I was making a pun. Because you touching it makes it...hot. I mean, fuck, I can’t believe you’re–a girl is finally paying attention to my dick and I’m not even awake for it.”

“I’m not just any girl and it’s not like I was jerking you off or anything.” She thwacks his thigh with the back of her hand, making him jump a little on the bed, knocking the pillow to the side. A drop of gel-like liquid gleams at her from his waistband before he rolls towards her and tugs his shirt down. “It’s okay I did that, right? I was–I mean, we used to take baths together.”

His smirk goes lopsided, eyes narrowing in affection, which she finds hard to believe after the embarrassing episode. “Yeah - with Archie. Not exactly romantic. You’d probably rather be touching his dick, anyway.”

“Gross! No, thank you.” She hits him with the pillow twice for good measure to beat the thought out of him. “I’d probably roll him on his stomach or off the bed.”

He laughs, eyes bright with the blue glow of the television screen as his hand works its way down his belly. “I must be pretty special then to get the pillow-waistband-blanket treatment.”

“Yeah.” She watches him toy with the hem of his shirt. Her breasts shouldn’t feel sensitive just from the idea of him getting shirtless, but they do anyway. Trying to distract herself from incredibly hormonal and objectifying thoughts, Betty turns her head towards the hallway. “Maybe I’ll use the bathroom after Archie. Unless you need to…” She gestures vaguely in a motion she thinks he’ll understand.

Frustratingly bemused, Jughead scoots back down on the bed and gets comfortable again. “I’m happy where I am.”

Before she can ask him to clarify, Archie’s clambering back up to bed, effectively putting an end to the conversation. She lays back down next to Jughead. Neither of them mention the loft bed on the other side.

From the way his eyes are gleaming, trailing from her eyes to her lips and then to her chest, Betty thinks Jughead might be..._attracted_ to her. But that might just be because he was having a randy dream. She shifts onto her back, trying not to think about the smooth bit of Jughead resting up against his waistband.

Once Archie’s nose begins to whistle, Jughead scoots a little closer. Perhaps he’s cold and seeking heat, even though he has plenty of his own. She turns to whisper, “Did you want to be big spoon, or…?” The question dies in her throat as she meets his gaze.

_Desire_.

Whatever black thing is inside of her stretches and yearns. Her heart starts pounding. Her shirt feels scratchy against her tits.

She’s immobile. Breathless. She glances at his pretty eyes. Looking down at his lips forces her to lick her own, wondering what he tastes like.

“Yeah. You wanna…?” Something about the hoarseness of his voice makes her hook her foot around his calf and snuggle closer. She peers up at him, cheek resting on his arm. The beauty marks. Long eyelashes. Sweet, pretty face. He’s...

_Sexy_.

Jughead’s _sexy_.

She eyes him, thrilled and terrified.

It’s probably a terrible idea. They’re best friends. Archie’s _right there_.

Yet, when Jughead kisses her forehead, she feels like she needs _more_.

“Juggie...” She hooks her leg higher up on his hip. After that, instinct takes over. She looks up at his face to see if it’s real, if he feels this, too. She barely even gets a sliver of his expression because he’s leaning in. Their eyes close as their lips meet in a kiss.

It’s almost like she’s in a fever dream. Heat swoops over her and tugs her into his embrace. She squeezes herself up against him, feeling his erection through her thin pajama shorts.

Indulgent suction deepens into open-mouthed _need_. She finds herself wanting teeth and tongue, every single part of him she can get. His hands feel enormous and dexterous fisting the back of her shirt. This kind of kissing would be even better topless. Forgetting where they are, she moans a little, gasping when his hand goes around her throat.

“_Quiet_,” he warns her, eyes flashing.

After one heated moment of just _staring _at this new energy radiating off of him, she trembles. He lifts her chin, delicately pressing kisses on the side of her neck.

“That tickles,” she breathes, accidentally grinding against him. As his lips leave her, she can’t believe _herself _when she orders, “_Harder_.”

Jughead pulls back and stares at her, wide-eyed.

Biting her lip, she hopes she hasn’t gone too far - scared him off. He just makes her so _comfortable _that sometimes she forgets to pretend to be the future valedictorian and just says whatever’s on her mind.

“I think that’s physically impossible.” He rocks his hips, reminding her of the stiff surprise underneath his clothes - something for _her_, maybe - and that’s enough to dig her nails into his back. His lips suction to her neck - trailing reverent, wet kisses from her jaw to her collar. She’s squirming with sensation, trying not to pant as his hand works its way up her sleep top. “This okay?” he mumbles against her skin.

“Yeah.” With no bra, his hands immediately come into contact with her breasts.

Something happens to him. She’s not sure what exactly, but his whole body trembles and his pupils dilate. It’s like he can’t decide whether to be rough or gentle as he shoves his palms against her before kneading in a caress the next moment. He pulls on her nipples, marching kisses down her chest until he’s got her breasts in his sights.

And then...he _whimpers_.

His mouth is hot, darting forward to suckle and roll her nipple along his teeth. It’s almost too much - a million sensations a minute and she can barely catch her breath from _kissing_. She yanks on his hair, breasts aching at the wild desire written plain on his face. His tongue darts out so deliciously that she almost rolls him on his back and fucks his brains out for the sight of it.

The creak of the bed above makes her jolt back. Jughead flinches, angling to cover her torso with his own.

“Maybe...maybe we should wait.”

Saliva feels more like sludge as she swallows. “Yeah, okay.” She tries to keep the disappointment off her face and out of her tone as she tugs at the hem of her shirt to cover up her wet, aching breasts.

“At least until Archie’s more asleep,” he clarifies, stroking her cheek. The intense way he looks at her makes her feel soft and needy.

“Okay.” Trapping his leg up against her heat, Betty wonders how long that will be. “If I...if I fall asleep...you can touch me.”

His lips part in shock and she wonders if she just cracked his mind open. “What?”

Squeezing her thighs down over his, she nestles in as nonchalantly as she can after dropping that kind of bomb. “I’m just saying, if I fall asleep, you can _start_…”

He probably won’t judge her for this newfound..._excitement_...especially not after he seemed so accepting about her touching his dick while he was sleeping. Maybe that’s just a touching-dick thing.

“How much touching?”

“Anything but penetration.” He exhales in what she thinks is admiration. Or shock. Or a little bit of everything. “What about you? How do you feel about…?”

“Same. Anything but penetration.”

She giggles, trying to muffle herself against his shoulder. The TV flickers white and blue over the room as the night wears on. Jughead rubs large, loving circles on her back. His lips linger on her hairline like he’s ready to kiss her forehead at all times. It’s nice.

In fact, it’s so nice that she almost _does _fall asleep. But she’s still pumped full of adrenaline, nuzzled up against her best-friend-turned..._something_, heart beating far too fast to rest. It’s almost as if they’re both waiting each other out to see who will fall asleep first. A competition of wills.

Betty wants to _win_.

She pushes him until he’s laying on his back, his nostrils flaring in anticipation. From the way he leans into her touch, she can tell he’s secretly a snuggler. She likes that. If he spoons her, she’ll probably conk right out. But tonight...she has _plans_. Raking her nails gently against his scalp, Betty savors the way Jughead’s eyes roll up a little just before they close. She knows the feeling comforts her after a long day wearing her tight ponytails and his scalp must get stuffy under that cute hat of his.

He shifts to brace the back of her neck and her waist. Part of her thinks he wants to put her on his dick right _now_, but not to penetrate. Neither of them are ready for that kind of trick - _especially _with Archie on the bunk above.

As her scratches trail off into caresses, Jughead moans, his face going slack. It’s not loud enough to warrant a _shh_. But this - watching him be vulnerable, be _aroused _and relaxed - that _does _something to her. She’s unbelievably wet - so turned on she wants to grind herself up and down that secured length until she comes.

He struggles in vain to stay awake. It’s so cute that she wishes she could take a video or photo of the way his eyelashes flutter.

After a few minutes, once he’s stopped twitching to try and rouse himself, she shifts up to get a good look at him. Pushing the pretty locks of raven hair from his face, she feels a little bit like Ariel from the Little Mermaid admiring Prince Eric when he’s passed out on the beach.

_I don’t know when, _she sings along in her head. _I don’t know how_.

She lifts his shirt with insane levels of focus. Every inch of exposed skin feels like it presses on her gut. The downy stripe of hair peeking out above his pants might as well be an arrow.

A dramatic crescendo reverberates in her head as she slides her palm along Jughead’s shaft. _But I know something’s starting right now_…

He groans in what she thinks is a reaction to a _good _feeling, arching his neck back. Still, she doesn’t want to be _too _rough. She wants to get acquainted with him in the relative safety of sleep and get used to giving him bliss.

Her fingers curl into his pajama pants, padding out the shape of him. It’s addictive. _Hot_. She loves _feeling_ him, making him twitch against her. Once she has a general idea of what she’s dealing with, she peels back his boxers and pants.

She quickly discovers his dick is more flexible than she anticipated - warm, smooth, and heavy in her hand. Although it remains _cute_, it’s also..._sexy?_ Curved at the tip, _slightly _bendy at the shaft. If all cocks look like Jughead’s, she’s not surprised that Kevin finds them so fascinating.

Testing the push and pull of tilting it from one direction to the next proves to be sort of hypnotizing. The sight captivates her like a sexier version of those sensory videos and gifs where things are stretched and smoothed like sand.

She _loves _it. Carefully moving his clothes down, Betty takes a good look at his balls. They rest with a different gravity, it seems, than her breasts, and are somehow endearing with their downy fuzz and almost elastic nature. Part of her wants to prod them with her teeth. Not to bite - that would almost certainly result in a scream (and maybe blood - which is _not _her thing). She wants Jughead to feel _pleasure_, not _pain_. They just look so _delicious_.

Maybe using her tongue would be better, as long as the wetness doesn’t wake him up. Stroking nervously, Betty lets her fingers dwindle on the head, contemplating what she wants to do next. As he moans again, she jolts and nearly drops him. Letting go of his waistband, she wraps a firm hand around his shaft to get a better two-handed grip.

It makes her feel powerful. Whatever’s leaking out of his tip makes great lube. The more she spreads, the faster she pumps her hands. The way Jughead’s whipping his head from one side to the next, rocking idly into her grip, she can tell he’s either going to come or wake up pretty quickly. His hand thumps into the mattress.

The force of it makes her hands stutter and his eyelids struggle to open. She really wants to make an impression on him - show him how good she can be. Betty climbs over his leg and swirls her tongue on the tip of his dick, surprised by how salty and sensitive it is.

He gasps awake, barely conscious, eyes fixed on her as his hand clamps onto her shoulder. “Shit,” he mutters and she can’t tell if it’s because she’s doing really well or he’s mad he fell asleep first, so she lowers her hand and squeezes his balls, sucking the upper half of his dick in her mouth for good measure.

“_Holy shit_.”

This time, she knows it’s pleasure.

Humming quietly under the white noise of the television set, Betty tries to get used to the sucking and bobbing motion while remembering Kevin’s advice.

Breathe through her nose. Write stuff on him with her tongue. _Moan_.

“Betty - wait,” he begs, his dick throbbing underneath her.

“Wait for what?” A splotch of spit lands on his balls and Betty’s too shocked to do anything but check her lip for dribble.

He scrambles forward, seemingly unaffected by her excess of body fluids, to press his mouth directly to her ear. The heat of his breathy words combined with his firm grip on her arm almost makes her shiver. “Do you want me to come in your mouth?”

The idea of Jughead’s come on her tongue makes her mouth water. She’s never thought about a guy’s come before - not _really_. The milky substances spewing everywhere in salacious ads seemed like the opposite of sexy. _Jughead_, though, _Jughead _coming in her mouth…

She nods, curious.

“Come on.” He pecks her lips, carefully readjusting both of them until he’s sideways on the pull-out mattress, his feet up on the arm of the couch so they don’t hang over. With a brief motion from Jughead, she crawls over to join him, her feet on the other arm of the couch and her hands braced on his knees. If Archie _does _wake up, he’d have to swing off the loft like an orangatang to see what they’re up to.

“Very clever.” She kisses his hip bone during a joint effort to get his pajama pants further down. Something like a grunt puffs against her thigh. “You okay?”

“I want to touch you.”

Licking her lips, Betty’s whole body feels heavier, like an over-ripe berry, filled with _juice _that needs to be squeezed out of her_. _“Touch me, then, Juggie.”

She closes her mouth back over his eager dick and starts sucking enthusiastically.

Shoving his face against her, he muffles his groans and gasps. He suckles and bites up her thigh, each touch soothing and sharp, keeping her so on edge that she starts deep-throating him in a desperate attempt to channel her lust. His hands work their way up the back of her thighs, cradling and groping her ass. Her shorts must be soaking wet at this point and right in his eye line but she doesn’t have the capacity to care.

“Betty…”

_Be quiet_, she wants to hiss, but she can’t, as her mouth is otherwise occupied. She’s secretly loving that she’s making him lose control. A firm swipe against her slit almost makes her slip.

She resents the hell out of her shorts right now and wishes he would rip them off so she could savor his attention right on her skin. She’s too busy focusing on how to breathe and blow him to direct him. His thumb passes over the sensitive bundle of her clit and she stutters, a low moan burning in her chest. Intimate touches like this are for dreamscapes. His fingers are long and just as dextruous as anticipated and he has her rocking back and forth chasing more friction.

“Come on, Juggie,” she begs, both of them slick with saliva and precum. “Come for me.”

“Ah..._ah!_” he grunts, shoving his nose into the seam of her sleep shorts and burying his cry against her covered cunt. Warm, milky come spurts out of his dick like a water fountain on the fritz. She barely has time to be surprised before she sticks out her tongue and reseals her mouth over his tip.

It’s shocking and wonderful, the bursts almost _random_. She swallows after each spurt, not in _love _with the sour mixture, but not turned off by it, either. It’s sensual. Taboo, almost. He’s mouthing at her cunt and kneading her ass and neither of them falter until knees start wobbling and everything’s just _sensitive_.

With a messy pop, Betty takes her lips off of him and looks over her shoulder. She can’t really see much, considering his head is resting against her thighs, but she thinks he’s happy. He made strangled sounds she hasn’t even heard when he gets a _really _juicy burger or when he tries her homemade recipes. His cock is still hard, even if it seems less _eager _for attention.

_Sweet_.

Jughead keeps mouthing sleepily at her thighs. She tries to climb backward on her palms but he holds her firmly in place, one hand still on her ass.

“Jug...what are you…?”

“_Shh_.”

She bites her lip, trying not to wriggle around.

He _rubs_ her. It feels good. _Really _good. She needs _more_ but doesn’t know how to say it. Rocking her hips, Betty wonders how Jughead’s fingers can feel so much better than her own.

"Mmm-"

The squeak of the bed above freezes her in place. It sounds like Archie is moving around up there. Panicked, she crawls back over Jughead, tugging his dick back in his pants and accidentally kneeing him in the shoulder.

Getting one another back in place with their current predicament is a mess of arms and legs. He whacks her in the face with his feet and she has to wave like an air traffic controller to get him to stay quiet and resist apologizing or wasting time to check if she's okay. By the time Archie climbs down, she's shoved Jughead to face the other side of the bed and is sitting up, slightly slouched, with her book.

"What was all that noise?"

"What noise?"

"I thought I heard you moving around."

"Yeah. Jug was talking in his sleep or something so I turned him on his side. Figure I'll let him sleep there tonight."

Rubbing his boyishly rumpled hair, Archie stares at Jughead's back. "That explains the _other _sounds."

Jughead tenses and coughs. She rubs his shoulders with a smile that pinches her cheeks.

"Yep. Exactly. Maybe we could let him sleep in tomorrow?"

"That's fine. I could do a morning run. Wanna come?"

She _might _have come, had he given her and Jughead a few more moments of bliss. But Archie's presence is generally a good thing, so she settles on, "No, thank you. I've been up pretty late reading. Plus, this one’s a lot to handle,” she teases, edging Jughead’s calf with her toes so he knows she’s joking - or maybe he’ll think it’s a compliment referring to size. Whatever works, as long as Archie doesn’t know what they’ve been doing right under his nose and Jughead considers doing this with her again. Not _this _exact situation but _this _being a general romantic and sexual situation.

This time, Archie doesn’t leave the room, just grabs his water bottle and guzzles a bit before bidding her a sweet goodnight and clambering back up to his nest.

Betty looks at the beams on the underside of his loft, gripping the covers so tightly she might as well be slung in a web.

“You okay?” Jughead murmurs under the white noise of the television.

“Yeah.” With a long-suffering sigh, Betty stretches the stickiness between her fingers, too dejected to go the restroom after all the excitement of the night. Serves her right to be jerking off her hot best friend...her hot..._boy_friend...in the middle of the night with an impressionable Archie present.

It sure felt good doing it, though.

After a few seconds, Jughead scoots closer on the bed and offers her his arm and chest as a pillow.

Even if she technically didn’t get to orgasm, this is still really great.

She folds around him - so comfortable that she nods off within minutes. Most of the time she’s just vaguely aware of the sweet way he keeps stroking her hair and arm. Archie can see that kind of affection without being scarred for life, so she hopes Jughead feels comfortable enough to keep up the sweet and sexy gestures through tomorrow - maybe forever. In her sleepy state, she might even tell him as much. It’s all kind of blur in the realm between wake and sleep.

The brief brush with Jughead’s dick must’ve ignited some flaming, bold perversion in her because she’s horny even in her sleep. Perhaps she’s extra attuned to sensuality because she didn’t get to come. Or maybe he really _is _magical, she wonders, moaning as some phantom fondles her breasts - although it’s not really a phantom anymore. Her mind’s assigned Jughead to her formerly faceless fantasy lover. Him and his big, glorious hands, his pretty, pink cock, and his sexy-as-hell face. A heavy, hot feeling moves lower and she keeps blacking out to enjoy it. A tiny part of her thinks she should wake up to pee.

Then something wet suctions to her clit and she kicks out in shock.

“What–”

Jughead’s face pops up from between her thighs, her shorts resting over his shoulder blades. Something shiny is on his chin and she’s pretty sure it’s _her. _“Archie’s out for his morning run. You think you can come for me?”

“Y–I don’t know.”

“Well,” he licks his lips, eyeing her hungrily. “Let’s find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who wants to guess the random things Archie heard while sleeping above them? To be fair, he might've thought it was the TV. Also, I know, I _know_ I'm evil for cutting out before you get to see Betty come after all she's been through that night. It just seemed like the most fun place to leave things. Rest assured, Betty got a fantastic release and everyone has a gloriously awkward run-in post-shower where Archie slowly puts the pieces together that his friends are into each other. Kink week feeds my creativity while your comments feed my joy so please do drop your thoughts or favorite lines or best guesses what Jug was dreaming of beloooow ~ Thanks for reading!


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